


Stripped

by teaandchess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fight Sex, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S5 era: Castiel's frustrations lead him to summon the one demon he thinks he has the upperhand over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

    Castiel had never expected to feel so much and all at once, a cataclysm of emotion that almost made him feel sick. It wasn’t just anger. A sense of uselessness had surfaced when he had met Dean's eyes and seen grief within his green gaze. A uselessness that deepened when Bobby had stared at him, not saying a thing, and when Sam had quietly offered the news of the destruction and death that had followed when he had left the Harvelles.  
    Days passed. Weeks passed. All along, the quiet question had loomed between all of them. Shared between all of them and Castiel had felt its weight.  
    "Where were you? You should have helped protect them."  
    So here he was at Bobby's. Not hunting Lucifer or Death. Not doing anything useful to the Winchesters. But still he mixed ingredients and drawing lines with single minded intent.  
    Castiel slammed the chalk down and grabbed the bowl next, using what was left of his power to ignite the candles. Dean and Sam had nearly died, Jo and Ellen had died…and while all his rage should have been at Lucifer for his destruction, he only had one he could go up against and win. Only one that he could punish. Punish for making him feel. He'd learned the name from Sam when he'd heard the news about the Harvelles and it had sent white hot rage through him. He had repeated that name like a mantra in his head whenever things seemed to go wrong and soon he knew it like the rhythm of his vessel’s heart.  
    Now he wanted to finally do something about knowing that name with an intimacy that was improper for an angel.   
    That was he was hiding behind his own impotency to protect the humans was something Castiel never thought of.   
    Lucifer…his demons…her… had taken soldiers, good people, people he had liked, from him and now he felt like returning the favour. He'd take a loyalist from Lucifer.  
    The Latin chant was familiar and so was the snap-snap of power. The wind gusted in through the junkyard and he kept going though a part of him whispered at him, warned him that if he'd been powerless in Carthage, why would it change now?What if this summoning went wrong?  
 _What if his reasons were wrong?_  
    What he was doing here was right, Castiel thought and he slammed the bowl down on the hood of a car. He repeated the end of his chant with more frustration than before and felt the dull whoosh of something arriving. He extinguished one candle when he heard low coughing and then muffled cursing.  
    That had been too easy.  
 _I’ll take too easy if it means showing the demons I and my friends are not to be played with._  
    When he saw the demon lying in the middle of the junkyard, winded and bewildered by the summons, Castiel did his best not to rush in and stab her where she lay. She'd expect that. The twisted, perverted thing would likely welcome it all to keep Lucifer happy.  
    What sort of creature would die so happily for her God?  
    I would, he thought before the uncomfortable realization was shoved down and out of the way. He was nothing like this demon. Castiel repeated it to himself under his breath several times, just to be sure he was convinced.  
    Her shirt was charred at the edges, displaying flashes of skin and underclothes to his sight, and with some satisfaction Castiel saw the burned ruined flesh of her belly. He’d left a lasting mark then. Startled, the demon twisted on the ground in the middle of the devil's trap he'd drawn in the dirt and he saw her head lift.  
    "Well, well. If it isn't the Winchester's pet angel." Her voice, husky and yet pained, sent his anger to grating and furious already. She pushed up on an elbow. "You rang?"  
     _Bitch_ , was what he thought to say but angelic reserve he'd long kept even when Uriel had fallen to such insults stayed strong. “Meg. Lucifer’s dog."   
    Meg's eyes went to slits and he wasn't sure if it was through pleasure or hate. "Don't flirt with me, Clarence, I've already had a taste of your one-two punch is like."  
    She touched her still healing belly and he followed the direction of her hand thoughtlessly. He didn't really see the wound. Instead he saw the blood and burnt corpses of a thousands others dead in this War. Including two that Dean and Sam had cared for, loved even. All in the ruined flesh of a demon.  
    "I summoned you," he admitted as he walked towards the devil's trap. She sprang to her feet but as agile as she was he noticed how she limped. "You killed the Harvelles."  
    Meg stared blankly at him. "Who?" Her eyes rolled around the junkyard. "And where the fuck are we?"  
    "You killed…"  
    "Heard you the first time," Meg cut him off. Her eyes lit up as she thought it out and realized who he was talking about. "Oh. Them." The drawl became mocking as her tongue rolled the word out. "You mean that sweet little blonde and her momma? I think you'll find Dean killed them. Shot off at my Father's best dogs. And you know hellhounds, I bet. They can't be called off when blooded like that."  
    His hand whipped out and caught her by the throat, hauling her in almost across the line. "You brought them. You set them loose on them all to kill them. You're responsible."  
    Meg choked under his grip and her one hand stole down between them, touching his tie. "What? You want me to apologize?" His eyes glinted and she laughed even though his squeezing fingers made it hard to breathe. "You really are stupid, aren't you?"  
    Cruelly, he reached down between them and slapped her burnt belly with his hand just to listen to her howl in pain before he dropped her in the devil's trap. Meg kept tucked up on her knees and stomach. She stared up at him through a curtain of brown hair and heaved for breath. Castiel walked a turn around the circle and then stopped across from her.  
    "You and Lucifer want to kill the Winchesters."  
    "He doesn't want them dead, you idiot. Sam's gonna chose the winning team. For once." Her grin was disgusted though. "Leave it to the Winchesters to get it that easy. All they have to do is chose."  
    Castiel stared down at her and thought he heard jealousy in her voice.  
    But emotions like that were beyond demons, logic told him. They were too ruined.  
    He squatted down, resting one knee in the dirt, and stared at her. "You're going to tell me all about Lucifer's plans."  
    Meg snorted but didn't move. "Dream on, hot-wings. Like he's telling me." She wiped at her mouth. "I was supposed to keep you in there and you…"  
    Both of them remembered the heat of the fire and how close they'd come to touching like lovers.   
    "You escaped." She touched her neck and Castiel saw bruises on her neck, a long scratch on her shoulder. She'd been disciplined.  
    Meg noticed him staring at her and gave him the finger, an action he ignored. He read enough in those bruises to know what had happened to her and why.  
    "So your God isn't as forgiving as mine," Castiel said smugly, leaning across the line. "Maybe you've put your faith in the wrong side."  
    Her face contorted. “Shut up.”  
    He didn’t miss the punch coming for his head and he ducked it, slamming his shoulder into her gut and driving her backward. Meg jammed her fist into his temple and he felt his head ringing and stars swam across his vision. He hit back just as hard, sending her to the ground with a chuffed sound. But before she could move and get out of his way, he followed through with an attempted kick.  
    But she was fast and caught his shoe with her hand, twisting hard and sending him flying through the air. Surprised by how fast she was, Castiel landed on his back and stared up, stunned for a moment.  
    The devil’s trap was ruined, he realized. It meant she could escape. He didn’t have it in him to summon her back and next time she might bring Lucifer with her. He couldn’t risk that.  
    He was on his feet quickly, fixing his coat as Meg circled toward him. When their eyes met, he saw the black in her gaze, a frightful thing that should have repulsed him. But he felt a strange excitement now. He’d not had a fight in so long and his pent-up emotions, new to him and so fragilely balanced, were roaring to the surface. Meg was giving him a fight and he scrunched his fingers into fists as they stopped circling one another. Meg smirked, and Castiel was disturbed by the perplexing emotions it caused in him. Her fingers opened from fists and seemed to beckon him, and he saw her starting to rock forward.    
    They charged at each other at the same time and collided like the well-worn fighters they were. She slapped at him and he her, their fingers hooking into clothing and knuckles slamming into vulnerable jaws, until they were both bruised and bloody. Using his grace to give himself a push, Castiel shoved forward and held onto her neck with one hand. They launched across the junkyard into an old Impala, one that was barely standing on its rusted struts. Meg leapt up before her legs were trapped, catching them around his waist, and she jammed her elbow into his throat so hard that he choked on his next breath.  
    Her legs squeezed his sides so tightly that his ribs felt ready to crack from the extreme pressure.  
    This new intimacy wasn't lost on Castiel. He'd watched humans, knew what transpired between them, and he realized the parody of what they were doing. Meg's breathing, fast and deep, made him wonder if she felt it as well.  
    "Fuck or fight, huh?" she asked against his forehead and Meg lifted a hand to hit him again. Catching it mid-way, he held her hand down. She boosted herself higher, struggling for a dominance that he wouldn't give her.  
    "I don't know what you're talking about." He gave her a rough shove into the metal that had her groaning but at the same time she gripped his tie and pulled him closer.  
    "No?" She did an odd shimmy and he felt a sudden jolt of something  when their pelvises touch. "Your meatsuit knows exactly what I'm talking about."  
    Stunned, Castiel looked down at her arched brow and knowing smile, and realized his trousers were uncommonly tight.  
    "Something about us fighting getting you off?" Meg breathed.  
    Naive as he was in her slang, the implication was clear.  
    "I wouldn't touch you to…"  
    "To fuck me?" Meg tilted her head. "You so sure? You aren't fighting as hard as I bet you could.”  
    Castiel grabbed her other hand and held them between them. “I’ll kill you.”  
    “How many girls do you get it up with?"  
    A sudden flash of insecurity made him step back and Meg's legs dropped to the ground. Her laughter was enraging.  
    "None, huh? I can tell." She leaned forward around her trapped hands. "Wouldn't touch you myself. You're not worth that much effort." Her head tilted. "Your big brother on the other hand. Mm… now there's an angel."  
    He slammed against her full force, felt the press of her small body between him and the car, and he heard a groan of pain coming from her belly. It pushed against the strange erection he'd never felt before.  
    One he was determined to ignore.  
    “But maybe just a taste,” Meg murmured. “To see….”  
    “What are you talking—?” he began  
    Meg launched her chin up and kissed with a cold brutality that cut him to the quick. It wasn’t how he envisioned kissing to be. This was sloppy and wet, painful when she opened her lips against his. Her teeth sank into his lower lip and pulled hard, until he tasted blood and grace and he heard her hiss when the grace burnt at her lips. Desire radiated off of her and he wasn’t sure how he knew that. But Castiel knew what he wanted wasn’t sex. He wanted her to fear and respect him, the way she had with Lucifer. He wanted to know he could still frighten a demon.  
 _He wanted something… but what?_  
    But the way she kissed him, tongue searching for his and probing deeply, made him think that Meg didn’t fear Lucifer or the other angels. Maybe she desired them.   
    There was nothing to desire here. His lips parted and he mimicked the quick upper-lip to lower-lip motions of her mouth on his. He fought to think as he kissed her back with hurried presses of lips and quick darts of his tongue.   
    He didn’t desire her.  
    He couldn’t desire her when only minutes before he’d wanted to dominate her and make her fear him as she should.   
_Could he?_  
    There was a fraction of a moment, when Meg broke the kiss, that he thought she was going to strike again. Her hand lifted from his now numb fingers and swooped down as if she was going to slap him. But all she did was grasp him by his chin and pull him down for another kiss, while between them her other hand went to his belt-buckle, bypassing his shirt and tie. She was leading him now and he was too stunned by her eagerness to stop her. Too stunned by his own desire and the thrill it was causing him.  
     _Father would cry if he could see you now,_ he thought to himself.  
 _Let him. Let him cry and realize how he failed the angels._  
    The last sign of a fall was this, Castiel decided. He knew where this was headed and with a determined rebellion he bent his head and forced Meg’s mouth to open even further as he shoved his tongue towards the back of her throat. She whimpered and growled at the kiss, climbing upward into his arms, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as he turned with her. She rubbed up and down against him, letting him feel her hard nipples through her shirt, letting him feel how good it was when she rubbed against his cock. Even when he reached between them, wanting to cause an equal ache on her by pinching her nipples, Meg only moaned as if the pain had been what she wanted.  
    Castiel didn’t know how to respond to that, but he did it harder the next time, until her moan became a loud squeal of pain and pleasure.  
    He wanted to hurt her but he knew he wanted to…wanted to…  
        A loud voice screamed: _Don’t pick a demon! Do what Dean does. Go into town. Find a human._  
    An even louder voice roared: _She wants you. The demon can take this._  
   _Just once, I want to see what its like._  
 _I could be dead tomorrow._  
     Castiel knew that in this mood he could hurt a human. In his rabid need to rationalize what he knew was going to happen, Castiel decided that a demon was perfect. He could hurt her and not feel guilt. If he wanted to, he could end her after it and feel nothing but elation to rid himself of this creature.  
    But when Meg sucked on his tongue as she rode his groin through their clothes, Castiel lost his train of thought.  
 _She was good at this. Distracting him completely._  
    It was a scramble of hands, of fingers on clothes, as he helped her fight free of her jeans and panties. With a hard shove, Meg sent him sprawling to his knees and started on her boots. At first he fought to stand again but once he took a good look at her he stopped. She should have looked absurd, still completely dressed on the top with as many layers as he wore, but she was far from it. Her lower body was slim, beckoning him with her shapely legs and what lay between her thighs was somehow tempting with the way the shadows played over the dark apex. He could smell desire on her.   
    Castiel had never known a hunger like this before. A hunger born from grief and rage.  
    Jimmy’s memories spoke to him of romance, of kindness and love. He should be kind in his desire.  
    But to Castiel, the coming act needed none of these things.  
    This was desperation and hate. Lust.  
     _Sinful lust._  
    Grabbing hold of her hips, he let her push him to his back on the dirt and he saw her knees plant on either side of his hips before she lowered herself just far enough to rub against him where his cock had risen through his boxers.  
    “Last chance to pray to your deadbeat Daddy for mercy,” she breathed in that sultry voice of hers. Castiel rocked up and grabbed a hunk of her hair, holding her still though her lips beckoned him only a few breaths away.  
    “Then pray,” he offered in a snarl, furious at her blasphemy, and she grinned viciously, a slant that made her lips turn more lush and seductive. She shoved hard on his shoulders and went down with him, her lips finding his neck and sucking marks to the surface. She moaned at his taste and he threw his head back to let her bring more bruises to his skin. It felt so good.  
    Between them, he could feel where she was wet and he unconsciously rocked his bared cock towards where it begged to be.   
    Meg threw her head back and moaned as she rubbed against him and he nearly choked out a groan when the heat between her legs just kissed his bare skin. Every inch of him felt hot and hard to the point of pain, and with a low groan he grabbed her hips. The demon sat up in his arms, tossing her hair out of her eyes, and reached between them to hold him steady. Smiling, she sank down, inch by wet hot inch, until he felt swallowed by the heat of her.  
   _Oh Heaven._  
 _This was too much._  
    Castiel rested his head back down and knew there was no way he could last this out. She was too tight, too wet, and his body knew it had been too long since it had felt anything remotely like this. Castiel licked his lips and watched as Meg’s jaw fell open and her head tilted back as she took him even deeper.  
    “Oh sweet Hell that feels good,” she muttered aloud and he felt the way her pelvis met his. “How’s it feel for you?”  
    He didn’t answer, just squeezed her hips between his hands and Meg’s head tilted back down. She cocked an eyebrow and reached down her body. She lifted up a little, causing him to murmur for her to stop, and slipped her hand between her thighs to stroke his now wet cock. Her inner muscles clenched down around him and she slowly pushed back down.  
    “It’s hot…tight…wet…” she whispered, leaning back a little. “Feels good, huh?”  
    Yes. Oh, Heaven, yes.  
    “Can’t hear you, Clarence.”  
    Her fingers rubbed at his cock whenever she lifted up and he moved his hands down her thighs to draw her legs wider, to keep her from moving too far off him.  
    “Clarence,” Meg insisted in a sing-song voice he found irritating. It nearly took his focus, but then she was fully encasing him again and he threw his head back, groaning.  
    She chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Touch me, Clarence. Be a good angel.”  
 _Don’t call me an angel. Angels don’t do this._  
    Trembling, he reached up and cupped her breasts through her shirt as she began to ride him with slow undulations. She gasped in time with the movements and he wanted nothing more than to make her sounds come out louder. If anything just to prove that he could. He wanted her to submit to him in a way he hadn’t thought he needed. He needed to prove he was still in control.  
    So sinful.  
    He just couldn’t stop himself from echoing her soft cries with his own loud groaning.  
   _—Oh God, Clarence, don’t stop.—_  
 _—Oh.—_  
 _—Feels like Heaven. Yeah.—_  
 _—Don’t…Feels...—_  
    Meg's gasps grew louder as he held her hips steady and drove up into her. Her hair had spilt before her face and he watched her furrowed brow and the mixture of pain and pleasure in her face. Castiel was chasing that pleasure of wet pussy and hard cock meeting.  Each thrust made him struggle not to see the demon.  
    But when her head tilted back, the woman left and he saw the demon in full and knew with sickening clarity that he wasn't repulsed by it. That he wanted it suddenly struck him at the same time the coil of pleasure in his belly slammed into his entire body.  
 _—Oh…Yes...—_  
    He came with a cry, not sure if it was self-disgust or pleasure that brought his end. He drove up harder and harder, following urges he used to ignore until now, until he started to fall. He was spilling come inside her, rubbing sweat against her, and all the time Meg gave out breathy moans and soft sobs when his fingers pinched her hips too hard. Utterly drained, his head slammed back into the dirt and Meg fell forward, her hips grinding into his as she struggled to get him to move so she could finish.  
    But Castiel turned violently away the moment he could find the strength, unseating her onto the dirt beside him.  
    Meg panted for breath and he shuddered with each exhale and inhale she gulped in, as if the feel of her wet breath on his back was painful. His trousers still sagging around his hips, he felt the cold stain of come dripping down his cock and he tried hard to stop the endorphins flowing through his body.  
    What had he done?  
    The demon moved around behind him, quicker than he was moving, and he  realized she had recovered fast.  
    It made zipping himself up and looking normal more important and he sprang to his feet.  
    Meg was struggling into the jeans he'd ripped off, the busted fly and buttons making it impossible to close them. A quick glance let him see bruises and marks on her skin, and he realized that those were made by his own mouth. She looked up at him, nearly eye-level with his now closed zipper, and smirked.  
    "Don't worry about it, Clarence. First times and all."  
    "That won't happen again," he snapped as he watched her get to her feet. Meg stretched.  
    "Well, it was short but it was fun." She tilted her head. "Too bad you have that stick up your ass. Something tells me that's going to get you and your boys killed, not to mention it makes you a bad fuck."  
    He glared at her and Meg stepped back. They both could still smell the mixture of female and male, sex and sweat and desperation in the air and Castiel wiped at his dripping face only to smell her on his fingers.  
    Meg's smirk dropped. The teasing lover left, leaving behind the true demon that the Winchesters must have known. "Don't do try to trap me again, angel. Next time the big boss will be right with me."  
    She was gone in the next step she took and Castiel sagged back against the old Impala they'd fucked near. Everything hurt in a strange and pleasant way. Knowing he shouldn’t enjoy the aches and pains only added to the guilt he felt.  
    "What have I done?" he whispered.


	2. Stripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel remains unsettled by his brief interlude with Meg. But Famine’s hunger settles and gnaws in his belly, causing him to lust and ache after things he shouldn’t want.

   They were bored, even when heading into trouble, and it was barely 11pm. Still, the night had some benefits, Castiel decided. He was overindulging in burger after burger, feeling the heavy weight settle in his stomach before feeling sated gave way to hunger pangs again. There was something to be said for that moment of satisfaction though. It brought him an element of peace that he hadn’t known since he had descended from Heaven. He knew what it was to lust after food now.  
    But the thought of lust brought even more uncomfortable thoughts and they were ones Castiel was determined not to think.

Not around the Winchesters at least. Stuck in the Impala, he firmly kept his mind on the food his stomach cried for and he licked his lips as he pulled yet another one out of the sack.  
    “Dude, really?” Dean asked, more than annoyed as he watched his friend unravel the foil.  
    “Like I said,” Castiel said as he took a massive bite. He spoke around the thick meat, ketchup, and mustard. “These make me happy.”  
    “Well, I guess I should be relieved you’re not eating onions.”  
    Castiel chewed thoughtfully before swallowing with a loud gulp. “Does all lust feel this way?”  
    Dean snorted. “Minute you start lusting after money, power, and sex, trust me, you’ll know it.”  
    “That’s not very reassuring,” Castiel said, tone dark and upset in the heartbeat it took him to find the words.   
    “What do you mean?” The Winchester was looking at him curiously now and Castiel reached for a napkin. Nervously he dabbed at his ketchup-smeared lips and tried to ignore Dean’s stare.  
    “We should be on the look out for any signs of trouble,” Castiel said to distract him and Dean shrugged.  
    “Fine. Your angel-y senses picking anything up?”  
    “Not a thing,” the angel admitted as he reached down.  
    Suddenly Dean held out a hand. “I swear to God, Cas, if you get another burger I’m gonna hit you.”  
    “I can’t help myself, Dean,” Castiel said, the slight edge of a desperate whine to his voice. He looked up, blue eyes imploring in his hunger. “And if you hit me, you’ll only hurt yourself.”  
    Disgusted, Dean thumped his forehead hard against his steering wheel. “I would have been better stuck with a rock than with you.”  
    “Rocks, at least, wouldn’t feel hunger,” Castiel said agreeably as with obvious delight he reached for the remains of his massacred food. He had the rest of his hamburger halfway to his lips when he smelt the slightest tinge of sulphur in the air. He set the burger back down, inhaled a little, and turned his head like a wolf searching for prey. Sulphur with a hint of…something _extra_. Like cinnamon and cigarette smoke underlying the rotted scent of sulphur.  
    Across from him, Dean gave a puzzled frown and cocked his head on the side. “Something wrong?”  
    “No…” Castiel wrapped up the burger and slipped it into his pocket. His stomach still demanded more food to sate his hunger but his head was outweighing that for once. He knew what that smell meant and the lust in his body cooled just a little. Just enough for him to think straight.   
    He could smell _her_.  
    “I’ll be right back,” Castiel muttered, fixing his coat before he opened the car door to leave. Dean huffed but nodded.   
    “Don’t go far. Might need you.”  
    “Of course.” Slamming the door shut, Castiel walked fast, eager to get back to the Impala but eager to discover if what he was smelling was what he thought. He dismissed the eagerness he felt as a thrill for a battle. Any chance to find an enemy he could actually see and defeat. That was what he told himself and that was what he tried to believe.  
    It wouldn’t surprise him if he was wrong.  
    His nose led him out the back of the closest restaurant into a dark alley. It stunk of urine and bad meat tossed out in the dumpsters, but that sulphur smell still lingered in the air. It was bad enough that he actually wiped at his nose to try to get rid of the rotted smell as he followed the alley down towards the darker shadows. Back here it was a putrid place, hardly ideal for even a homeless person to hide in. The smell of sulphur had died a little, replaced by the stronger smell of burning cinnamon, and he inhaled again to see if he could figure out where it was coming from.  
     He nearly gave up until he heard a soft laugh.  
       “Well, well.” He heard her voice overhead and spun about, searching through the darkness. Just above him, Meg stood on a catwalk, leaning on the rail. She wiggled her fingers at him and he set his jaw firmly.  
      “Demon.”  
      “Angel,” she mocked with equal severity before chuckling. Resting an arm on the railing, she propped her chin up on a hand and smiled. “You’re looking delectable as always, Clarence.“  
      "What are you doing here?”  
    She frowned. “That’s it? No "I will smite you” speech? Clarence, I’m ashamed of you.“  
      He looked around and Meg followed his gaze.  
      "I’m alone, if you’re curious.”  
      “Alone and still close to where Famine is. That’s too much coincidence.”  
      “Maybe.” She crooked her finger at him. “If you come up here, I’ll let you know a secret.”  
      It was humiliating, having to walk and climb the ladder to the catwalk, and he knew she knew it. Still he climbed to get to her. One day he’d have his powers back, he vowed, and she would know how fast he could move then. As he climbed Meg taunted him the entire time, asking him what it was like without wings, that she didn’t have all day, and when he huffed a little, she loudly declared that he was getting fat being a fallen angel. Humiliated by her words, he let his aggravation help him reach the top of the ladder in little time at all only to find her already backing away to a wall.  
      "I wasn’t here to look for you,” he said once he recovered his wind.  
      She pushed away from the wall towards him. “Then why are you here?”  
      He stared back. “Why are you? This is hunter territory, even with Famine being close by.”  
      "Lucifer wanted some con work done. See what you all are up to.”  
      Castiel saw the blind faith in her eyes and decided to squelch it. “He sent you here to die and you know it. He’s pitting you against me.  You? Against an angel?” He made sure to make his laugh bitter, the way Dean would.  
      Meg flinched and he realized she knew it. “He’s the father of…”  
      “He created your kind out of spite, not love.” He walked towards her and Meg backed up in response until her back was against the wall. “He’ll kill you just for fun and you know it.”  
        “Lots of fun things happen out of hate, Castiel.” Her smirk hadn’t lost its edge and he jumped when her hand drifted down to the front of his pants, just brushing his belt. “You remember that?”  
      “That was one time.”  
     “Left a lasting impression though.”  
    He narrowed his gaze in on her, grabbing her hand in his but he didn’t stop the way she still touched him. “I can imagine.”  
     “Bet you could.” Her fingers turned around in his palm, caressed the heel of it and he let her lead their hands downward over his pants. “You get this hard so easily all the time? Must make being around the Winchesters tricky.”  
    He swallowed as her hand rubbed a slow path up and down the material, just brushing but never gripping enough to give friction.  
    Meg’s eyes were on his face. “It’s funny. Sinful as you know this is, Clarence, you’re not saying no.”  
      “Would you stop if I did?”  
      “Just to watch you squirm with your conscience? Fight to hide your hard-on? Yeah.” Her husky voice did something to his insides that he fought to ignore. “I think Famine’s affecting you, Clarence. What are you **_craving_**?”   
    Castiel had no answer that wouldn’t damn him.  
    Her hand dropped and she went to move by him, only to have her way blocked by his arm. He saw the caution in her dark eyes when she looked up at him. “Something on your mind?”  
      “This might be a sin for me, but you’re not much better. Demons don't…” he fumbled for the words, “…have sex with angels. Where is your pride?“  
    Her teeth flashed in a grin. "Sweetheart, are you flirting with me?”  
      “You never said no either,” he countered and Meg shrugged.  
      “Maybe I thought it would be a treat. Touch of the forbidden.” She leaned forward into him, trailing her fingers up and down his chest, breath touching his collar as she pressed against him so he felt her breasts against him. “And it was.”  
      “Why?”  
      “Sex can be fun. Great for burning off the calories. Better than running ten miles.” Bending her knees, Meg slipped down a little and her eyes darted flirtatiously up to him.  
      “What are you doing?” Castiel demanded though he didn’t stop her. Meg’s smile turned coy and she nuzzled his shirt, breathed out hot breath against the hollow indent of his chest.  
      “I think you wouldn’t mind another…moment,” Meg drawled lazily. Her hand was at his trousers again and he felt the gentle press of it against his cock. The erection he couldn’t hide actually jumped against her hand. With a low laugh, she rubbed a little just to see him arch his back and then turned her mouth to his shirt. Pressing tongue-slick kisses to his chest and stomach, she went to her knees. She only murmured when she banged them into the iron grate and then laughed again at his confused expression.  
      “I wouldn’t either,” she said to finish her sentence, her eyes still gazing up at him. She sank her teeth gently into his stomach and he swallowed as her fingers unzipped him, wrapped around his cock at the base and gave him a few leisurely strokes. All in one touch and all he could do was just stare down at her.  
      Why did the sight of her on her knees somehow, impossibly, make him want her more?  
      “Girls get wet but so do the boys sometimes,” Meg said, speaking slowly as if she was teaching him something while her fingers slid so slowly that he trembled from such gentleness. Her fingertips traced the lines of precome starting to coat him. She hummed a little and then smiled. “You’re so ready to come, Cas, and you’re not even aware of it.”  
      He struggled for his control. “I don’t feel…It is just the…”  
      “Ah ah, I think it is you. Having fun in a human form.” Her head tilted back to look up at him. “Because if I stop…”  
    Her hand dropped and he felt a flash of actual pain as the released pressure sent blood rushing to his cock.   
      “You felt that didn’t you?” she asked astutely, eyes on his face.  
      “No,” he denied and Meg chuckled, leaning in and brushing her cherry red lips over his tip. The shock of waxy soft skin against his erection made him lean back as if to get away. The wall met him, supported him when he started to slump, and below him Meg murmured.  
      “No?” Her satiny soft cheek rubbed against his cock.  She did it again before pulling back entirely and he moaned when the pleasure of the feeling left.   
      “Yes.”  
      “Which is it, Clarence? Girl needs answers. You’re confusing me.”  
    He wasn’t sure if it was vessel memory or his own will that made his hand go to her hair. He dug his fingers into the wavy tresses until he felt her scalp against his fingertips and he pulled hard to force her head to tilt. Groaning in pain, Meg stared up at him and Castiel vaguely remembered what humans would do. The words they might say and he knew that Meg might respond to.  
    He just wasn’t sure if he wanted to repel her or draw her closer.  
      “You…like doing this?” he asked. “Being on your knees? Submissive to an angel?”  
    Meg smirked deviously. “Baby, if you think I’m not in control here, you really don’t know a thing.”  
      Castiel swallowed and recovered as quickly as he could, tightening his grip in her hair. “Open your mouth.”  
    The demon’s eyes sparkled in delight at the challenge in his voice, knowing he was daring her. Castiel wasn’t sure why she moaned low, as if she had been wanting him to say those words, but she opened her mouth and took him in.   
    He had to spread his legs apart when the warm suction sent his world spiralling around.  
    She took him deep, until he felt himself pushing into her throat and the constrictive swallows started to massage the tip of his cock.  
      “ _Heaven_ ,” he whispered, fisting into her hair and trying to stop himself from thrusting. Meg hummed in pleasure at the feel of it and her fingers slipped to his sac, scratching lightly before squeezing the delicate skin.  
    Castiel gave up on pretence and started to thrust shallowly into her mouth. When he hit the back of her throat he felt her choke a little and pull back to get some air. At his insistent pull she went back, making him sloppy and wet with her tongue and her teeth nibbling in intervals just to bring enough of a bite. Castiel watched, astounded by the obvious pleasure she was taking in this, by the pleasure he was taking from it. His entire world seemed to centre on her mouth. Her beautiful mouth, he thought in a haze and he thrust again just to hear the low gurgle it caused in her throat. Her cheeks hollowed as she applied more suction, her tongue playing with the tiny slit at the end of his cock.  
    Everything centred so totally on Meg that Castiel was suddenly in a world of pleasure that he didn’t want to stop.  
   _—Oh…yes —_  
 _— Mm…—_  
 _—Harder…—_  
     The blind lust he knew was only disturbed by the soft wet sucking sounds she made, the occasional cough when he pushed too deep, and the hums of pleasure whenever she liked what he did to her hair. Then she was moving, shifting as she drew her lips and teeth along the tip. His cock slid out of her mouth with a wet pop and he groaned, head resting against the brick as Meg slithered back up to her feet. Her hands stayed between them, still pumped and stroked him, brought him closer and closer.  
    "That’s right, Clarence,“ she murmured in his ear. Her tongue darted out to trace his earlobe. "You do feel it, don’t you? Your whole body is relaxing but gettin’ tight too. Weird, huh? You know what you want. You want to come in my mouth.”  
    He shook his head, hips still pushing towards her hands. Meg’s fingers stroked up and down the silky hard skin, found veined edges and pricked them with her nails. Her mouth just grazed his collar as he leaned into her for relief. Then she stopped and he groaned out a garbled,  
      “Meg.”  
      “Just ask, Clarence.”  
    But he couldn’t. All the air he didn’t think he needed was out of his lungs and all he could do was strain for it to come back. The nerve endings in his body were on fire and he hurt all over again as everything clenched up. The ache wasn’t painful but it was enough to make his heart beat harder, his body strain for something he wanted.  
    Over the blood pounding in his ears he heard Meg murmuring to him as she stroked and jacked him up and down, harder and faster now. The precome and saliva was making her hand slick and he fought to stop thrusting, wanting it to last. But instead of still fighting him to ask, Meg laughed and slid down the wall again.  
    The second her lips slid up his shaft until her nose was brushing his groin, her throat devouring him, Castiel came with a shout and pounded his one fist into the wall so the brick crumpled. Meg made throaty gulping noises and he couldn’t stop himself from holding the back of her head with his uninjured hand, making sure her mouth still took him as the feeling continued. Each contraction through his entire body seemed to be in time with the swipe of her tongue. He was soaking wet with her saliva and his come, and he didn’t care. He just wanted to stay like this for a little longer. Meg sucked harder on him, as if willing him to give her more and more, and his body went through spasms to give her more.  
    Castiel pounded his hand on the wall again and moaned louder. Meg only chuckled around her full mouth and continued to jack him with one hand. Eventually she had to pull back to gulp in air and as she did it she dotted stinging kisses against the softening flesh in her hand. She bit down, just once and hard enough to sting, as if to remind him she was there and Castiel finally let go of the handful of hair he had nearly torn out in his orgasm.  
    By the time she released him, Castiel was wrung dry and exhausted. Meg smirked and stood up, still pushed between him and the wall. She wiped daintily at the corners of her mouth as if she’d been sipping a wine. Her grin was both sated and yet mocking. Castiel stared at her, feeling almost drugged, and had the feeling she had won something from him.  
    She’d proven she could control him.  
    Realizing that didn’t stop his body from begging for her to do that again.  
      “Always a blast, Castiel. Quite the hair trigger you got on your cock,” she jibed. Castiel closed his eyes to regain his equilibrium and when his eyes reopened, he saw only the destroyed wall and no demon.  
    If it wasn’t for his still twitching cock and the wetness coating it, it would have been as if she was never here.


End file.
